I'm sitting here waiting for Fonzy to get back from the store picking up last minute items for our trip tomorrow. The boys are in bed, but Ezekiel just called me, so he's not sleep. He's probably excited and can't sleep.
On this trip back to Texas I will get to see Samuel's headstone. I've have only seen a proof online, and haven't been to the cemetary since the day after his funeral. We will be heading to Abilene on Wednesday, exactly 7 months since Samuel was killed. I don't know how I will feel going to the cemetary, knowing he is there in the ground. Seeing his headstone will make it all too real. Even though seven months have passed, I still find it hard to believe he is gone. I have his phone number still programmed into my phone, even though his number has been disconnected. Not a day goes by that I don't think about him. I've thought about going to the place where he was shot. I wasn't able to while I was there for his funeral, maybe on this trip I will. Then again, maybe not. Fonzy was watching the First 48 the other night and I had to leave the room. The episode hit too close to home. A young guy, shot in a parking lot. They showed his body and all I saw was Samuel's body. How he must of looked. It was too much.
Samuel loved Abilene, Texas and tomorrow I will be on my way back to the place he was born and the place he now rests.
Manuel & Samuel
Coming face to face with the man who killed my son was a positive therapeutic moment. Some things are a hard hit, and surprisingly, some things help our healing. We just dont know until we are faced with it. Each of us is different, but dont forget, each of us are here for each other. Peace&luv from one Mami to another.~c
ReplyDeleteI cannot even pretend to know what you have been feeling these past 7 months. Losing a child is every parents fear, one that we pray will never happen in our life time.
ReplyDeleteI hope that every day, from here on out, you are able to heal - even if it is just one tiny spark that lights your day, one day at a time.
May peace be with you,
Darlene